Fate
by CeceVolume
Summary: A rewrite of A Fate You Can't Escape. Klaus fights to gain the crown he feels is owed to him, only to find Caroline, his mate. A mutual nemesis stands between them, yet he can hardly focus on anything but making the headstrong young vampire come to heel. Good luck with that, pal. Rated M because frick frack, foul language, and violence.
1. Prologue

_So…it's been awhile. Like, a long while._

_I'm rewriting _A Fate You Can't Escape_ because it was my favorite project, but I've lost all my notes and files. So here we are. A rewrite, revamp, reimagining._

_I hope you all enjoy this and have the same enthusiasm you were awesome enough to give me with (what there was of) the original._

_CeceVolume_

PROLOGUE

A howl echoed through the woods, breaking the serenity the night of the full moon had to offer. A chilling wind blew, drawing up the leaves on the forest floor to whirl around. The river rushed through somewhere to the west, a warning to any who knew to heed its call.

Never had he felt so at home.

Running through the trees, he relished the feel of everything around him, embraced the wild nature he had so long kept hidden. Never had he been so free to do something he loved so much, nor had he felt such a wild rush of hope and relief. Even if he was to die tonight, he would hold no regrets so long as he could savor this moment, this feeling in the halls of Valhalla.

The now familiar scent of wolves grew stronger as well as the sounds of their howls and he wanted to join in their song, wanted them to welcome him as a member of the pack. For too long he had not belonged, would never belong outside of this place. Only just that night had he found out his true nature and he had felt peace for the first time in his life.

He had a home, a place where they would have him as one of their own. And it had been so _close_. For years, just beyond the forest outside their tiny village, his true _family_.

His mother had always told him to beware the place because monsters resided there, terror growing in her eyes as the years passed. A woman of Esther's power balking at the idea of taking on the beasts had him on edge.

But the time for that was over. No longer did he have to fear what lurked in the woods.

He was one of them.

_Insert Break_

"Stop," he begged. "Please, don't hurt him anymore."

His voice was broken, barely audible to human ears, but they heard him perfectly. And _laughed._ He wanted to fight the chains shackling him to the cave wall, held in place by stakes that went three feet deep.

But even before they'd brought Henrik in, he'd been so weak. The torture he'd endured…at his own _people's_ hands…how long would he be able to withstand the onslaught? What could have been mere days or several weeks should have broken him, should have _killed him_. He'd been so close to letting go, to letting the darkness overtake him.

Then he'd smelt his brother—_half brother_. Long before he'd seen or heard him, he'd been caught the scent of fear and blood. It had renewed what little energy he had. When he'd heard Henrik's labored breathing and the tell tale catch in his voice as he pleaded with them for answers, wanting to know why they had stolen him in the middle of the night, he'd thought he might actually be able to break free from the bonds on adrenaline alone.

When they'd brought him straight to his feet….

"Nik, please." His eyes returned to his brother's tear and blood-soaked face at the sound of the young man's voice, knowing the end was near for the young man. Even if he was the same as him, he'd never survive his injuries; he was so young, so _fragile._ "Please, help me."

Roaring, he fought with a new vigor, feeling the chains break his skin. What was more blood spilt? What was his life in turn for Henrik's? He had been the one to go in with hope in his heart when there was every reason to fear the monsters in the dark. He had thought to find a place to rest and had only led an innocent soul to hell.

A wolf stepped forward, naked in his human form. Planting a foot in the young boy on the floor's back, he said casually, "A _true_ wolf would do whatever necessary to protect his pack, yet the weakest of yours is so close to death. You struggle and spit, but show no _loyalty_, no _honor_. A lowly cur, not strong enough to join the king's men." A quiet chuckle rose through the group of wolves that surrounded them, the scent of ridicule filling the cavern.

"Let me loose," Niklaus rasped, baring fangs as his irises blazed yellow, his inner beast scratching under his skin to be freed. "And I will show you my strength. Release the boy and fight _me_."

With a laugh, the older wolf said, "Why should I do that? His _father_—_your_ mother's husband—has killed many of our kind because of some mortal _vendetta_. He knows nothing of the Lore or what he is toying with. So why should I release _either_ of his worthless pups?"

Before he or anyone else could respond, a hush blew threw the cavern, deafening after the constant movements. It was as if the sky itself were pressing down on the small area, drawing everyone's breaths from their bodies.

Barely able to hold up his head, he could just make out the silhouette of a large man against the moonlight at the mouth of the cave. He seemed to take up the entire space that could easily allow two grown men to pass side by side. If he was any taller, his head would probably scrape the top of the entrance.

He commanded the attention of all without saying a word.

Without a word, he strode through the parting group, stopping just at Henrik's feet, but his attention was on Niklaus, a look of knowing on his face.

Now that he was closer, the bound man could make out the features of his hard face. A strong jaw clenched tight, one blue eye gone milky where three severe scars tore through it. Red brown hair fell shaggily down to his shoulders, messy curls brushing the collar of the furs covering his body.

His lip lifted in a snarl when, eyes still on Niklaus, he turned his head to the wolf standing on Henrik. "Release him."

Immediately, the wolf and two others were pulling him free, letting him drop to the ground. No hesitation, no questioning.

This man was the king of the beasts.

As Niklaus hit the floor on all fours, it took everything he had to hold himself up on his shaky arms. He wanted to stand, to look this man in the eyes, but he feared his legs would give out, showing weakness. "Return my brother to our mother and I will do whatever you ask," he said, barely keeping his voice from breaking; there was no place for weakness here.

The king tilted his head, but moved no more than that. "You risk your life for the whelp of the man who has killed so many of your own kind? Even though he will clearly never do the same for you?" Finally, the man looked down to Henrik, toeing him with his bare feet to roll him over. "He's barely more than a child," he muttered, though Niklaus wasn't sure if the disgust was for Henrik or his own wolves.

"If he dies, Mikael will come for you," he answered, trying to shakily push to his feet. "Mikael will tear your entire pack apart just for taking him. Bartering his release may protect you."

A rumble went through the crowd but the king swiftly put up his hand to stop it. "I am not afraid of the mortal. It is his _wife_ that worries me." The word came out like acid off his tongue.

Shock went through Niklaus. "You know my mother, what she is?" A heavily guarded secret. Though her children knew of what she was, no one else in the village did, not even her husband. Witches were hunted, but she had hope that she had passed on to her children the power she so easily controlled.

"Of course I do. How do you think a mortal was able to kill so many immortals? How did he have the strength when my men have a beast that resides in them, the strongest creatures in the Lore?" the man questioned. "Your mother may be able to hide what she is from them, but we _know_."

Unable to stop himself as curiosity reigned, Niklaus demanded, "How do you know my mother?"

There was silence for a long moment, the wolves looking amongst themselves uncomfortably. Tension filled the air as the king's jaw worked and his good eye flashed to the same golden yellow of every wolf. Niklaus could actually _see_ the change threatening to overtake him, rippling just beneath the skin.

One of the female wolves across the cavern finally stepped forward, snarling, "That bitch with her mortal children had the audacity—"

The king was on her in a second, snatching her throat in his large hand. Black claws grew from beneath his human nails to pierce the soft skin there. "You will not speak of your queen that way, not in my presence or out of it. No matter what she has done, she is still my mate and you will show her the respect that title demands." Niklaus could perceive his hands clenching just enough to cut off her air, watched as she writhed against the hold, desperate to breathe. "Do you understand?"

She frantically nodded her head and he dropped her to the ground, casually strolling back to where he could face Niklaus. The younger man had finally been able to stand, but wasn't able to stay that way for long.

Perhaps it was the surprise that kept him upright, the knowledge that his mother was this man's _mate_, his _queen._ That meant that he was….

"Yes, you are my son," the older wolf said easily, causing Henrik to freeze in his writhing on the floor. "The heir my mate stole from me to be raised amongst mortals." Eyeing Niklaus skeptically, he added, "I am King Callum of the Werewolves."

Too stunned to speak, Niklaus merely stared. This powerful monster, this _king_ was his…_father_. At last he could know who had helped to create him, could know the ways of his people. Surely they wouldn't kill their _prince_?

Glancing down to Henrik, Callum muttered, "And here is evidence of my mate's betrayal; a son by another man. Even if I could overlook her other crimes against my people, this one will not stand."

"What are you say—"

Faster than Niklaus could pose his question, the king's heel went down on the back of Henrik's neck, a great snap echoing through the chamber. Henrik's heavy breathing immediately fell silent, even as Niklaus's heart threatened to burst out of his chest.

With a cry of grief and fury, he threw himself to the prone body of his brother, no longer feeling the pain of his injuries. Clutching him to his chest, he begged him to speak to him, to say something, but Henrik's empty eyes just stared forward.

"As my son, I am allowing you to live, to carry my message to your mother," Callum said easily, airily. As if he hadn't just killed a child innocent of any crime against him. "You will tell Esther that after these twenty years, my patience for her games has ended; it is time I brought my queen to heel. Any of the vermin she birthed with that mortal will befall the same fate as this one."

Suddenly, he was there, clutching Niklaus's chin in his hand to force him to face him. "Then you will return to me. Your mother may have tried to weaken you by raising you as a human, but I will teach you myself how to be wolf."

The sadness that had overwhelmed him swiftly gave way to a fury he'd never felt before. All to prove something to _Esther_, this man had killed his beloved younger brother, threatened his other siblings in much the same breath. Even if he saw it as his mate's betrayal, that gave Callum no right to destroy what was _his_.

For the first time in his life, Niklaus heard the alluring voice of his Instinct rising in his mind.

_-Destroy the threat.-_

Gently setting Henrik down on the cave floor, Niklaus stood above him, feeling the cracking of his bones. But this was different than the torture he'd endured; this was a _relief_. He would rip out the throats of all those that had dared to hurt Henrik, to make his last hours on earth filled with terror and pain. As the gods were his witness, he would kill every last wolf in that cave.

Starting with his _father_.

No doubt sensing the threat, men and women alike began to shift, the years of practice making the transition quicker than his. He flung out his hand to catch one, the claws growing there piercing _through _the creature's neck. Without releasing his grip, he threw the body across the room, leaving him with the semblance of a throat covering his hand with blood.

"Boy—" Callum snarled, beginning to change.

"Not a boy," Niklaus growled in return just before the full transition overtook him. "A _wolf_."

_Insert Break_

Having scoured the woods for days, the villagers had given up hope of finding Esther's son, Niklaus. He'd been at the mercy of the wolves for too long; there was no way he had survived within the beasts' domain. They had watched as the family's hope and desperation turned to grief and agony at the loss.

But for the young Henrik to go missing earlier that day made them uneasy. Were Mikael and his family being targeted by the wolves for what Mikael had done? Perhaps it was time to move on, to find another place to settle, far from the monsters of the forest. They had their own families to think of and if the wolves could get Mikael's own children….

A cry rang out from the watch at the edge of the village, a sound of shock and awe. It was the middle of the night, yet everyone sprang to life when they heard the echoing cry, "They have returned!"

It was that sound that alerted Mikael and Esther, as well as their four remaining children, to run from their home and stare out into the woods, watching a figure stumble through the brush with a smaller body in its arms.

The family stood, watching as a few of the watchmen ran to the pair, catching the larger as he fell. Even though they tried to relieve him of the weight of the younger man, he snarled and snapped his teeth, the sound animalistic as it rang through to his family.

Esther shook as he struggled back to his feet, covering her mouth to keep from screaming or crying. There was no sign of movement from Henrik in his brother's arms and she knew what that meant, though she wouldn't let it become a cohesive thought.

There was no way those monsters had taken away her youngest son only to leave her with the proof of her infidelity.

Surrounding the pair, the villagers ushered them straight to their family, keeping close to Niklaus's back as if they honestly thought they could protect him from the beasts. The wind whirled as Esther's fear grew, her power whipping around. To her right, she felt a hand wrap her own and looked over to see her eldest son Finn silently giving her his strength even as he stared forward.

Another hand fell on her shoulder, making her glance back. There stood Elijah, stoically offering his strength as well. His arm was wrapped around her beautiful—and only—daughter Rebekah's shoulders, holding her trembling frame to him.

On her other side stood Mikael, clearly stunned. No doubt he wondered how they had gotten away from the monsters when he himself could never have. Of course, he never saw the innate power all her children held, only what they lacked. Little did he know that she had happily molded them to fit into her plans, had intended for the bond they all shared.

_Always and forever_.

Kol, who had moved ahead gasped and stammered, "Nik is…he's covered in…blood."

Eyes widening, her attention once more went back to where her middle son was coming towards her, unable to believe what she was seeing.

He dragged the bodies of at least half a dozen wolves behind him, his naked body covered from head to toe in blood and mud. There was a savage scar across his face that was already pinkening, though it must have been so deep, based on the amount of blood there. When he was only a little way ahead of her, he dropped to his knees, gently placing Henrik on the ground before him.

Bowing his head, he murmured, "I could not save him. Callum was too quick." Yanking the rope off his shoulder, he hefted the wolves' bodies so they could thud to the ground before Mikael, who Niklaus now turned to. "These are the ones who captured him, the ones that came into the village. There is a dozen in the cavern where I left them."

Going to stand before her prone son, she dropped to her knees, gently stroking Henrik's hair out of his face. She could see the bones that had been broken, the pain he must have endured, and forgot the most important rule her mother had taught her before she'd been killed.

Never show your power.

Without a word, she cried for the power of her ancestors to bring back her little boy, to let her have her son back. She begged them to give her the magic necessary to raise him from the dead.

If there were any way to make him open his eyes, she would find it. If she had to exploit every vestigial of magic that existed, she would do it. He was just an innocent little boy who had paid for her perceived crimes against Callum, the wolf that believed she was fated for him, that she would be his and only his.

As she tried to draw more and more power from the earth, from her dead ancestors, she heard their voices in her head.

_That is not how magic is meant to work. He would be an abomination. He must remain dead._

How could they forsake her?! It was not his time, nor his fault! If they were to punish someone, they should punish _her_. She would give her life for his!

"Mother," Niklaus rasped from before her, "they are watching."

Looking up to the villagers, she saw that they were captivated, completely mesmerized by the power flowing from her hands. When she looked down at her dead son, she was shocked to see more magic than she'd ever mustered exploding from her palms. She felt completely invincible, as if she could choose to change the ways of the world on a mere whim. So much power…so much _strength_.

Yet Henrik remained unmoving.

_He has gone to the Other Side, child,_ she heard in her ear, making tears burn her throat. _He is welcomed among us and so loved. He will be safe with us. You must let him go lest you intend to hurt him more._

Flinging herself back from him, she let out a wail that would have rivaled the Valkyrie's. Instantly, her unharmed children swarmed her, wrapping themselves around her like the shield she'd raised them to be.

She no longer needed a shield, though. She needed weapons, something to destroy the wolves as they had destroyed her.

Her gaze went to Niklaus, her little wolf. He shuddered with the need to join, but she could see the guilt in his eyes. Henrik had been taken because of him, no doubt. Though she wasn't meant to know, she had sensed his first change coming, had known he would run the forest soon enough. She had sent the lowly creatures to spy on his first run and they had told her when he was captured.

It had seemed like a small blessing when he'd found his true self. Either they would kill him or recruit him. Whichever came to pass, it should have meant she no longer had evidence of her betrayal of Mikael; she no longer had to fear what her son might reveal. She hadn't anticipated that the wolves would still see fit to retaliate.

But if it was war they wanted, it was war she would give them.

Rising to her feet, power blasted out from her, knocking down her family. The villagers took a collective step back, now caught between the wolves and the witch. They were scared, as they should be; just as she would punish the wolves for taking Henrik, she would punish them for not returning him—_alive_—to her.

As her children and husband stood, Esther called upon all the power of her ancestors, feeling it strip away from them and into her body. They would not condone her doing this, changing her children. It had never been done before, though there were rumors that many had died trying.

But the Old Ones were the only beings strong enough to overtake an army of wolves. One could fight for days to lay siege through a vast legion of the beasts. They had no need of sleep, breath, or food, just human blood.

_And I will have six to do exactly as I say._

_Insert Break_

Callum sat amongst the carnage his son had caused, a heavy weight in his chest. He may have underestimated the boy; it seemed he did have the wolf within. Glancing down at the Pelt of the First Wolf, he wondered whether he had made a mistake pushing the boy away. Though he had been raised by mortals, he would have made a bloodthirsty general.

It made the king wonder if—when he took Esther back—she would provide him with more powerful children and if they were raised properly by the wolves would they be even stronger. Of course, he wouldn't sire anymore children on her until he taught her to heel, otherwise she may abscond with them, as well.

Really, it was too bad that Niklaus hadn't had proper training; perhaps he could have been the true heir as was his birthright. But he clearly still cared about his human siblings, something that Callum could simply not allow. If a wolf was to wear the pelt, he was only to be loyal to the pack. His _true_ brethren.

As he pondered this unique and off-putting situation, one of his injured wolves came running to him, bowing at his feet, his breath coming out heavily. The sight made the king's hackles rise in alarm.

"My king!" the wolf said breathlessly, keeping his head bowed, though his eyes still sought Callum's eyes.

Waving the man up, he replied, "I ordered you to keep watch over the injured; why have you shirked your duties?"

There was always the chance of an upstart or negligent wolf not following his orders, though Darach—the wolf before him—was much older than the usual pups that he had to punish. A worthy healer and exceptional fighter, he was the first to care and watch over the injured. The man was hard to quell when it came to battle.

The wolf shivered, rising slowly to his feet. "I was the only one…she sent me in to tell you…your queen is _here_. And she has brought _vampires_."

Callum slowly rose to his feet, hiding his trepidation behind the knowledge of his own strength. "Rally our strongest and bring them to her; I will join the lot of you."

"Sire," the wolf murmured, "I already _have_."

_Insert Break_

For the first time in his life, he felt no guilt taking lives, nor did he balk at drinking their spilled blood. In fact, he reveled in the fight, those left fallen in his wake. This was only made better as his siblings fought with the same intensity on any side of him, glorying themselves in the carnage as well.

_"Cut a path for me to get to the King, children,"_ his mother had ordered, a command they had readily followed. _"And remember they will not rise only if you take off their heads."_

Somewhere in his mind, the Instinct whispered, _-Something is not right.—_

A cold chill had run up his spine at that, his hackles rising, but he shook it away. After the pain of his mother using her power to change them into Old Ones, he did not easily welcome the Instinct's words, didn't trust them.

Now that he had the strength, why should he listen to some primitive drive? Besides, wasn't it the same drive that had made Callum and his wolves so vicious toward his innocent little brother? The boy that would never harm a fly did not deserve to be their whipping boy any more than he had.

As he ripped through another wolf's neck with his newly sharpened fangs, the rage within him built. They had destroyed his family, his mother beyond repair. All he had wanted was to belong and yet they had ridiculed and tortured him for days, only to release him with the guilt that Henrik's death was his fault.

They would all pay.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered his mother shouting his name from behind him. Turning his head as his hand clenched another wolf's neck, he saw the magic forming in her hands, wind beginning to whirl her blonde hair around her face. Once again, his Instinct told him that everything was not as he thought it was, but he merely pushed the thought away.

"Bring him to me," she murmured over the sounds of blood rushing through veins and spilling all around him. "You are the only one that can."

With a nearly imperceptible nod, Niklaus ripped away the head of the wolf in his grip, tossing it far away from his body. He felt his strength growing as his wolf fangs grew beside his vampiric ones—longer, thicker, meant only for harm—and the change rippled beneath his skin.

Turning towards the cavern of his nightmares, he was almost surprised to find how close he was to it. He could smell his real father even then, just beyond the mouth, watching the onslaught from the shadows. So he must be a cowardly king, sitting on the sidelines while his people fell all around him, no doubt hoping to escape should his attackers grow weary.

But Niklaus felt no fatigue, only a need for vengeance. _–Too strong.-_ But the voice was ignored once again.

Because what was more fearsome than a werewolf who was also a vampire? As a hybrid, who could overpower him ever again? Even the wolves that had captured him the night of the full moon were falling in his wake; his mother had given him untold power.

"Come out!" he roared into the cave. "Come out and fight me!"

At his challenge, a hush seemed to fall over the clearing. The wolves stopped fighting, as did his siblings, waiting for the response. Would Callum take the challenge or lose his pack to his bastard son?

It didn't take long; the king was not a man that took a challenge to his authority lightly. He strode out slowly, no longer wearing the pelt Niklaus was sure he rarely went without. He had almost forgotten how his father's presence seemed to take up all the space around him, making him seem larger and stronger.

"Your mother," he called out as his eyes locked with Niklaus's, "has made you into an abomination. If you were a true wolf, your Instinct would tell you of the mistake you are making." That steady blue gaze caught his son's jerk of surprise instantly, narrowing as his fangs burst from his gums threateningly. "The Instinct is sacred, yet you would ignore it's power?!" he roared, his skin rippling as he readied for the fight.

Suddenly not so sure, Niklaus answered, "You told me that night that wolves protect the pack; this is mine." He swept out an arm towards his siblings and mother. "You killed the youngest of us and now we have come for revenge. And soon, you will have to answer to Mikael, just as you should have twenty-six years ago when you took my mother."

Callum laughed, shaking his head. "You do not know what you speak of, boy," he intoned, smirking. "Your mother was my mate and she came freely to me, only to leave when I told her I would not raise her mortal offspring within my pack. Mikael may come, but he will never be able to erase that his wife bedded the very wolf he had tried to kill for years."

Snarling, Niklaus threw himself with all his considerable speed at Callum, only to be caught and tossed away as he had done so many wolves. But he was up in an instant, attacking again and again, always thrown this way and that. Throughout, he could hear wolves falling at the hands of his siblings as they tried to fall upon him when he was down. However, the king just kept chuckling, mocking the son he had been so carelessly cruel to.

"If you truly wish to attack me, then _do it_. Show me that I was wrong to cross you and I will gladly show you my neck!" Callum shouted, raising his arms as he stared down at Niklaus. "Within the Lore, might makes right, so _prove_ to me that you are worthy of my blood and my ancestors' rushing through your veins! Or are you just a headstrong pup with no true understanding of the world we live in?"

His father's taunts were the end of it; he could take no more. The change rose within him and he couldn't stop it. But there was something different about the wolf taking over now. Before, it had been hopeful and childish, wanting a home.

Now it demanded blood.

_Insert Break_

Esther watched as the larger russet wolf stood over his father's unconscious body, looking to her for orders. She had thought that by turning him into an Old One—the natural enemy and opposite of the wolf—she would be able to destroy that thing that connected him to Callum. Before she'd turned them, she had commanded Niklaus to tell no one that he was a wolf, hoping that he would see no reason to with the power of the vampire within him.

If Mikael were to find out, he would kill her.

Niklaus gave a short whine, snapping his teeth a breath away from Callum's throat, waiting for her orders. Ever the dutiful son even as a blood sucker, it seemed.

But she couldn't risk her secret being discovered by Mikael. As a human, he had nearly halved the wolves within the woods. When—if—he rose as a vampire, he would be too powerful for even her magic to quell.

She would have to kill her son to protect herself.

Raising her hand in his direction, she clenched her fist, making him give a startled yelp. "I am sorry, my Niklaus," she murmured, knowing her other children looked on in horror. "But Mikael can never know what you are. Turning you was supposed to give me retribution, not expose my secrets." No tears formed in her eyes, though she felt them in her throat. If there was any way other than this to protect herself, her other children, she would gladly do it.

However, she was out of options.

"I have him in place," she called over her shoulder. "One of you must take his head. It is the only way to protect us from your father."

A sharp snarl sounded at her right just before her arm was broken, releasing her hold on Niklaus. With a cry, she turned to find Rebekah there, dark veins beneath her eyes as she flashed her fangs at her own _mother_. "He is one of us!" the girl hissed. "He is our brother! We will not kill him!"

Holding her useless arm, she spun to where Niklaus shakily came to his feet with Elijah's and Finn's aid, his wolfen yellow eyes catching hers as if to ask her how she could want him dead.

Didn't they see it was the only way? She was protecting them! When Mikael arose, he would find out what his "son" was and know immediately of her betrayal, something he might have already suspected. And he was enough of a bastard to take it out on all her children, not just her.

Before she could voice this, she was thrown to the ground, Kol standing over her. "If you would sacrifice one of us for yourself, you would sacrifice _all_ of us; that makes you more of a threat than the wolves ever were," he growled, his lip turned up to show his fangs. "It makes you _the enemy_."

Suddenly, his head was descending, and terror shot through her. Without thought, she raised her left hand, sending out a surge of power. All but Niklaus were tossed away, though he swayed on his feet. Those wolfish eyes were locked on her, pain radiating from them.

If he would just see that she had to protect them all, he would be able to understand what she was offering him. By giving his life for his siblings, he would be wiping clean his slate. He wouldn't have to feel remorse any more than he had for Henrik's death, wouldn't have to go on for potentially eternity with guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders.

They could be a family if he just wasn't there.

As he shakily walked to her side, she wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he understood her? She would have to kill him before his siblings were able to rise, she knew, but couldn't help bringing her hand to the fur at his neck as he gently nuzzled the side of her face.

"I know it is frightening, my love," she murmured to him as magic grew in her palm. "But you will go to the Other Side with Henrik. Protect him there until I may meet you, Niklaus."

Just as she squeezed her eyes shut so as not to see his life end, a horrifying pain ripped through her neck. Her good hand swung to clench it, blocked by the muzzle of her son. Blood poured from her as, with one strong bite, he left her to die on the forest floor like an animal.

Darkness was coming quickly, the cold of death already taking hold. But with her last bit of strength, she sent a message to her husband, hoping that he would hear it and rise, avenge her.

Her last sight was her bastard son's human face over hers, blood coating it as tears fell from his eyes. She cursed that face, was still cursing it as enshrouding darkness became still nothing.

_Insert Break_

Mikael arose to new scents he had never smelled, noises he'd never heard. He had been so close to that veil between life and death, trying to pull it aside so he could rest, yet it had been just out of reach. He'd wanted nothing more than to go to his youngest child, his parents, his fallen comrades, but then a voice had cut through from the mortal realm, calling him back.

_You must kill them,_ Esther's voice whispered. _Rise and avenge me. The wolves, our own children, _Niklaus_…. Avenge me._

With a roar, he opened his eyes and snarled, "I will kill them _all_, wife."

He swore he could feel her hand on his cheek, her favored gesture of thanks.


	2. Chapter One

_Oofta. I have to say, the first chapter is always the hardest. Prologues are easy; you just set up the story. First chapters of the actual timeline? Ugh._

_Little note: When I wrote the original, some characters hadn't appeared in the show yet. I'm adding them in where I see fit, so Enzo will _not _be a vampire._

_As always, I hope you guys enjoy! _

CHAPTER ONE

"I got friends in _low_ places!" she sang, raising her mug with the rowdy bunch of demons she'd chosen for her drinking partners that night. They all were singing along to the song, spilling potent demon brew all over the floor while the other beings in the place laughed and danced in the chaos.

Yesterday, if someone had told Caroline Forbes that this was how she would be spending her night, she wouldn't have necessarily been _surprised_; demons were especially fun to hang with on a night out. But if you said that she was doing it to give herself a cover should her friends decide to seek her out instead of her ignoring them on her phone? That would have been a stretch.

They were her best friends, after all. But just a touch on the annoying side.

"Too bad about your werewolf, gorgeous," Enzo muttered, throwing his arm around her shoulder. Over the last fifty years, they'd partied a lot; he was one of the few rage demons she could stand to hang with for more than a day. "But that just means you can finally acknowledge your feelings for _me_," he added with a smirk and swig of demon brew.

Enzo St. John was a well-known demon around Mystic Falls, one who had no problem bedding any female he turned his attention to. His thick, dark hair always looked like he'd gotten up and run his hand through it, called it good. If you caught those deep brown eyes sparkling at you, it meant one of two things: drop your panties or get the hell outta Dodge. As with most demons, he was lean, compacted muscle, the kind that made him hell in a fight.

And she'd be lying if she said she'd never thought about investigating the rumors of his…endowments.

Alas, she had found Tyler soon after meeting Enzo and he'd been a much safer choice. Now that "her werewolf" was gone, she just wasn't willing to go through knowing that he would leave her someday, just like Tyler.

Rolling her eyes, she plucked his arm from around her. "You know," she answered, "that's _never_ going to happen. I'm not trying to get attempted tonight." As he opened his mouth to say something sly, she continued, "Or ever."

Once again, Enzo's arm found his way around her shoulders, this time putting his mouth to her ear to murmur, "That's a _very_ long time for an immortal, love, and I'm sure you wouldn't like to eat your words."

She stifled a little shiver but couldn't help giving herself an inward shake. Enzo was a demon looking for his mate, just like Tyler. The accent and his do-what-you-feel attitude were tempting, but what would happen when he left her too? At least with Tyler, she hadn't had to worry about being cheated on as well as the end that was always looming in the distance.

Giving him a small smile, she said, "How about this? If I don't find myself a male by the time I'm five-hundred and _you_ don't find your female by then, we'll try it out, see where it goes."

Throwing back his head to laugh with a sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes, he replied, "I'll write you in, darling." He turned his attention back to Matt, who stood behind the bar with one eyebrow raised. "Matt, old boy! You're our witness; Caroline's mine on her five hundredth birthday! A round for the bar in celebration!"

All the Loreans in the bar shouted in glee, holding up their glasses in toast.

Normally, even a Born vampire wouldn't be welcomed so whole-heartedly into the bar. Naturally, a creature that drank blood for sustenance was an unwanted patron in any establishment, much less one that actually _knew_ they were bloodsuckers. Just the appearance of one could either clear out a place or turn it into a full-on brawl.

Caroline Forbes was special, though. Not only was Matt one of her best friends and now roommate, she was proud to say she was hard not to like. Even people who didn't _like_ her could at least acknowledge that she was great to party with. _Life of the party_, she thought to herself with a smile as she gave her beer another sip.

A chill she was all too familiar with went up her spine, making her eyes narrow as she turned in her seat. It was the sense that someone was…exasperated with her.

Swinging her attention to the door of the bar, she saw exactly who she had expected to see: Bonnie and Elena.

They stood apart from the rest of the crowd, mostly because of their reputations. They could drink and carry on with the rest of Caroline's rag-tag team of friends, but that didn't mean they didn't get a wide berth the rest of the time.

Bonnie was the last Bennett witch, which made her quite possibly the strongest of her kind to ever live; the Bennetts were thought to be the first line of witches to step out of the ether. It didn't help that the mocha-skinned woman had no problem throwing her weight around, dropping immortals left and right with just a look if they displeased her. Caroline thought it was a little over the top, but _might makes right_ was the Lore's motto. And this witch might just be the _mightiest_.

Of course, she could also chug a bottle of tequila and ask for seconds, something she had learned before she'd even met Party Girl Caroline.

While Bonnie took care of everything mystically, Elena was the warrior princess. As a Valkyrie, she had been trained since her birth forty years ago to battle with any weapon, at any time. Being the Doppelganger was just more reason to train her harder. She had no qualms about taking on the big and bad; nine point nine times out of ten, she'd end up winning too.

But she also could flip her long chestnut hair and shake her as like a champ.

Both of them weren't shallow, one dimensional people. They had depth. _Whoops,_ she thought with a larger gulp of beer. _Guess the universe just forgets to shade in some when they spend so much time painting other masterpieces._

Caroline was more a blunt tool, untrained kind of woman. If it could do damage, she would inflict some real hurt with it. Though she'd learned to wield dual blades, she preferred to adapt to a situation; it made people more likely to underestimate her.

Yeah, walking around with a bow and short sword attached to you or magic glowing from your palms was cool, but to knock someone out with a lamppost was _much_ more theatric. Plus it didn't require as much talent.

Raising her hand in a wave, she called, "You guys come to drink or fight tonight?" She laughed when the whole bar—except the ever-suffering Matt, who merely shook his head with a grin—seemed to suck in a breath, waiting for the answer.

Normally, this would at least get a reaction of some sort out of the pair striding through the parting patrons. A little spark of magic or a twirl of an arrow. Just a little something to remind everyone that they were creatures with which one did not _fuck_.

Now, though, Caroline could see the purpose in their steps, their eyes. What the hell was going on? "Are you guys okay?" she asked when they finally got to her.

Bonnie gave a quick glance around the bar—glaring at Enzo's back as he sidled up some nymph—before murmuring, "We have to get out of here, find some place we can talk. There are too many people here that might be listening in." Her eyes strayed once more, as if she could pick out someone eavesdropping.

With a small snort, Caroline laughed, "Of course they're listening; everyone here is just as much gossipmongers as a gaggle of old women." A small mutter rippled through the crowd, making the vampire roll her eyes. "Oh, yeah, because _that_ doesn't make it seem like any of you were eavesdropping at all!"

Elena snatched her arm, pulling her quickly out of the stool. "Care, I love you, but now isn't the time. Things are happening and Bonnie and I need you _right now_."

Glancing over his shoulder, Enzo chimed in, "Did you read my dream journal? _Dear Diary, today I dreamed a lonely witch, Valkyrie, and vampire found comfort in each other's hot, wet_—ah!"

Bonnie clenched her hand as the demon dropped to the ground, clutching his head. "Shut _up_," she hissed before turning back to Caroline. "We have issues to talk about and the longer we sit here, the more problems we accumulate—son of a _bitch_!"

Everyone sensed it a mere moment after the witch. As a group, their attention went straight back to the front door and the two new occupants. If she didn't see Bonnie building magic in her palms or Elena slowly unsheathing her short sword, Caroline would have laughed at the audacity then joined in the soon-to-be melee.

_Two Turned vampires walk into a bar_, she thought mockingly as she downed the last of her beer. "Is this one of the problems we've 'accumulated'?" she asked quietly, noting Bonnie's discreet nod in her direction. "Are we in fight or flight mode tonight?"

Surprisingly, it was Elena who answered, "Flight," before inching closer to the bar. "Matt," she muttered, "we could either use a berserker to clear the path or a distraction to get to the back door."

The young, blonde vampire had never heard of a Valkyrie choosing retreat before the battle even started and had to eye the newcomers. What was so special about them?

Turned humans were notoriously arrogant; the sudden influx of previously unknown strength was like a drug to most. Usually, though, they were put down before they got too old because they were driven mad by the level of emotions and bloodlust. Their new instincts often warred with their delicate mortal minds. And a crazy immortal ended up a dead immortal.

Tilting her head, she regarded them more closely. The pair didn't show any signs of madness, but _definitely_ some intensity. The taller of the two ran his hand through his tawny hair, his light hazel eyes surveying the gathered group with something akin to pity. He stood just behind the other, his powerful body held tight beneath his brown leather jacket, forest green T, and jeans, as if waiting for the inevitable fight.

So he was the smart one, then. Didn't hurt matters that he was cute to boot.

The other, though, garnered Caroline's interest in a different way. There was something about how he held himself—loose but alert—that told her he was used to fighting and winning. Thick black hair fell in a small wave to accentuate the hard lines of his features. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the room with his lightning blue gaze, stopping to lock on…Elena.

Because of course it was Elena he was looking for; wasn't everyone?

"Sorry, folks, we're just passing through. Seems something of mine has wandered in," he called to the room, raising his hands as if in surrender. "I don't want to fight any more than the rest of you."

Rising shakily from the floor, his rage state beginning to form, Enzo snarled past thick, strong fangs, "Fucking _Damon_," before turning to his comrades. "That's the fuck that stabbed me with a tree limb."

Growls erupted from the room; demons might fight amongst themselves, but it was more in a sibling rivalry way. They didn't take kindly to someone else doing it.

It was about to get _very_ messy in the bar.

Glancing over her shoulder, Caroline saw that Matt had similar thoughts. His eyes were already flooding pure black as the specter of the bear inside him shimmered over him like a thin veil, his muscles beginning to grow. As he shattered the mug he'd been holding into tiny shards, he growled, "Go out the back. Only one vampire is allowed in this bar."

As the trio tensed to jump the bar, the blue eyed Turned finally took his eyes off Elena long enough to say charmingly, "You might not want to push this, fellas; what's a little stabbing amongst friends?" When that didn't stop anyone from readying themselves, his smile deepened into something dangerous. Once again, he caught Elena's eyes and winked.

"What the _hell_," Caroline asked as she turned towards her friend, "is _that_ all about?"

With a blush rising in her cheeks—again, what the fuck was going on—Elena muttered, "He thinks I'm his Bride, which means we gotta get _out of here._"

Well, desperate times….

Leaning towards Enzo—who just needed the smallest nudge to completely lose control—Caroline whispered, "You're really going to take that from a _Turned_? He _ran you through_!"

Enzo's battle roar seemed to be all the spark this particular tinder box needed because all around her, chaos broke out. Matt vaulted the counter, his body nearly twice its usual size as Enzo charged the pair. All around other demons followed suit, the nymphs fading into floorboards. In the corner a pair of female werewolves snarled as the change began to take hold, their fangs shooting longer and claws curling into the wood of their table. A group of Sirens started to lose their glamour, transforming quickly into their true monstrous selves.

This was pretty much a done deal.

"Do we still have to run—"

Elena grabbed her arm and began running towards the back even as the Turned bellowed her name from behind them. Stumbling backwards as she tried to right herself, Caroline saw just as Enzo and his crew reached the pair before Bonnie shouted in her ear, "Let's _go_; we don't have time to be caught in a bar brawl!"

Bursting through the door, the Valkyrie finally released her vampiric friend's limb and said, "Grab your keys! Time to book it to Val Hall!" When Bonnie started to argue, Elena cut her off quickly. "It's closer and they won't be able to get past the lightning. Plus, I'm ninety percent sure that they have a witch too."

"Okay, ladies," Caroline said as she ran past them, barely a blur, "we have _way_ too much to talk about! Just get in the car!" Beeping the locks, she opened both front and rear passenger doors for the others, watching as Elena nose-dived immediately into the front seat.

Bonnie, however, stood facing the shaking bar, arms spread wide. Flames began to ignite in her hands and Caroline could have groaned. So _now_ the witch wanted to stand her ground? What happened to not having time?!

"It's time to _go_!" Caroline said sharply, drawing her friend's attention. Blazing eyes turned to her. Waving her arms in a this-way motion, the vampire hissed, "We can always come back and whoop ass later, but right now, Elena kinda needs to leave. The last thing we need is some Turned catching her and making her his Bride." Glancing back at the Doppelganger in her car, she murmured knowingly, "Unless you _want_ the vampire?"

All she got was a glare, so she shrugged with a smile. "I mean, to each their own; just had to check."

However, neither of the other women seemed to think she was funny even though she was _pretty sure_ she was hilarious. Once again, different strokes for different folks.

"Fine." Bonnie started back towards the car, looking only a little put out. "But only because this is the least of our worries right now," she added testily, sliding into the backseat and slamming her door. "We have to talk about the oracle—"

_Slam!_

All three females' heads twisted back to the barely surviving door, only to see it on the pavement, the blue-eyed vampire snarling atop it. He was fully vampiric now, his fangs long and lethal as black veins spread down his cheeks. His clothes and skin were splattered with blood, just to top off the whole look. "Don't even think about it, Elena," he growled, stalking forward. "If I have to find you—"

Rolling her eyes, Caroline shook her blonde hair. "Okay, I'm done with this melodrama. Maybe you can call her and set up a date? Instead of the whole vampire Tarzan thing? We have stuff to do and you're really—" she yanked a lamppost out its cement base "—getting in the way of that!" Swinging the post over her shoulder, she shouted, "Batter up!"

In that moment, he charged, moving faster than even she could track. _Fuck_, she thought, _how old is this guy?_ In the blink of an eye, he would be on her; if she swung, she wouldn't get a second chance. She had to make sure he couldn't dodge….

With a sudden hiss of pain, he dropped to his knees mere feet in front of her, fingers digging into his scalp. A look over her shoulder showed Bonnie—from the safety of the car—clenching her hand much as she had with Enzo.

"Bonnie, coming in clutch with an aneurysm!" Dropping the light, Caroline strode to the car. "Thank you. While part of me believed I could do some damage, I didn't want to take the chance that guy took my head off." She smiled as she climbed in the driver's seat, casually adjusting her mirrors. "I mean, he made it out of a bar brawl with a myriad of monsters; I don't know how much hope I would have."

"He's starting to get up!" Elena cried. "Go, go, go!"

Sure enough, despite the fact that Bonnie still had him, the vampire was struggling to rise to his feet, seeming to shake off the pain to focus on the Valkyrie. He lifted his arm, pointing at her shakily. "_I'll find you,_" he snarled.

With a small squeak—and that wasn't even directed at _her_—Caroline turned back around and put pedal to metal. The tires screeching, she took off without looking back, just letting the car hit its top speed even as it shook. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck," she chanted, nearly constantly looking into her rearview. If he could resist Bonnie, what was to stop him from being fast enough to catch up?

Elena was breathing heavily, sinking into her seat in relief. "I just want to get back to Val Hall to hang with my sisters, that's it. I need a stiff drink and a hot bath."

Bonnie leaned between the front seats, hands on the back of each. "We have a lot to talk about. That Turned vampire is the least of our worries right now. Caroline," she turned her full attention to the blonde woman, "the Oracle at the House had a vision today about you. She told us to watch after you, but that's all she would give us; she says if you can avoid being captured for a week, to come to her and you'll be ready for what she has to say."

Caroline had to stop herself from slamming on the breaks at that. "What?!" she demanded. "And you didn't think something like that was important to tell me _immediately_?! Who the hell is trying to come after _me_?!"

_She_ wasn't the one that immortals chased; there was nothing special about her. She was just a seventy-four year old Born vampire whose parents ditched her the moment she transitioned into a full immortal. Not a Doppelganger, not the most powerful witch in existence, not even a rare breed of monster that was strong enough to lift a semi. There wasn't a single thing that would make her stand out to anyone for an abduction other than knowing several High Profile beings.

Caroline Forbes was nothing to anybody but a side character in someone else's story. Wasn't that exactly what had happened with Tyler? _Second best to someone he hasn't even met yet,_ she thought as her hands clenched the steering wheel tight enough for it to start to crack.

"I don't know!" Bonnie said. "That's why you need to lay low for a week!"

Elena sat up at last with a sigh, pushing her heavy chestnut hair back from her face. "Which brings us to the next problem." Turning to Caroline, she explained, "There's been sightings of a couple of Originals all around the county. We don't know what they're after but we can guess it has something to do with me or Katherine Pierce, the Queen of Illusions and Persuasion."

That seemed a _touch_ more important than having to lay low for a week, at least in Caroline's mind. If someone was looking for her, it was usually to plan a party.

But when they were looking for either of the living Doppelgangers, it usually meant they were trying to do something evil; Doppelganger blood held mystical properties that's power was through the roof. Essentially, it was the immortal way of going nuclear in a war.

And the Originals—though they normally seemed to keep the murder and mayhem to a minimum—were the Vampire Royal Family. No one was sure how old they were, but they were the strongest vampires in existence and were rumored to have untold power. Though she'd only seen them in Lorean tabloids, like for Finn and Sage's vow renewal twenty years before, that didn't detract from the fact that they had strength not just as a collective but separately to do whatever they wanted.

Like most Born vampires, Caroline had grown up hearing stories of them and how, even without magic, they could day-walk, that they were all the strengths and none of the weaknesses. What they wanted, they got, no matter how many innocent people they had to take down in the meantime.

So…. "That seems a little more important than watching my back," she conceded, glancing in the mirror at Bonnie as she pulled up to Val Hall. "If the Originals are after Elena, she needs more protection than I do."

As they stepped out of the car, Caroline noted that both Bonnie and Elena looked down at their shoes guiltily. "That's what we thought, too," Elena murmured, looking up at Caroline from beneath her lashes.

"Not that you aren't special enough to get kidnapped," Bonnie hastily added, walking over to Caroline. "Just…you know, she's the Doppelganger. But when I talked to the Oracle about it, she said that Elena would be safe until you were able to get the information from the prophesy."

Making herself smile and jokingly wave her hand, she ignored the insecurity in her stomach; it _hurt_ that nothing made her different from anyone else when two of her best friends were Big Deals. But she was used to it, knew better than to show it to them. "Guys, I'm not upset," she said quickly. "I don't _want_ to have a constant target on my back like the two of you; looking over my shoulder would definitely cut into my having fun time." Linking arms with both of them, she strode towards the porch where two of Elena's sister Valkyrie sat whittling shives. "I only have to worry for a week; you two have your entire immortal lives. I think I'll survive."

_Insert Break_

The next night, Caroline woke in a bed that wasn't her own to the sound of Valkyrie battle cries. The sound of them shook the entire house, the lightning outside striking so often it was like there was a spotlight shining through the curtains.

Instantly, the vampire remembered what she'd learned the day before, groaning at what the fighting meant. _I guess I should have known that we wouldn't get a day off,_ she thought as she snatched up her clothes and matching stiletto blades. Sliding the weapons into the sheaths she'd had sewn into all of her shirts, she started out of her borrowed room and up the stairs at break-neck speed.

Bonnie had gone back to the coven the night before, hoping to get more information on what the Originals were looking for and who was after Caroline, so she probably had no idea there was even an attack yet. Luckily, going after a Valkyrie at Val Hall was one of the worst things you could do, so hopefully they didn't need her.

Racing into the moonlight, Caroline was surprised to find…no one was there. There was nothing outside except for the constant arcs of lightning and the shrieks coming from deeper in the forest. But why would the Valkyrie lose home advantage, especially at night? There were so many Loreans that lived within those woods, yet they were leaving their house unprotected….

Shaking off doubt, she dashed towards the fight, only then noticing the beginnings of gnawing hunger. This was why she had suggested they go to the house she shared with Matt; there, they had the protection of a mortal living within the home and she had a fridge stocked full of blood bags. Plus, while the other Valkyries put up with her, they weren't exactly happy to have a vampire in the house, no matter how many times Elena reminded them that Caroline had been raised to never drink straight from the vein.

She slowed as she realized the sounds and flashes were still beyond her, even though she had to have covered the distance already. _What the hell? Are they fighting that hard?_ Her heart caught in her throat; the only beings that _might_ be able to take on a house full of battle-trained Valkyrie were the Originals. And she wouldn't be surprised if the warrior women led the attackers further away from their goal.

Before she could take off after them again, she heard a throat clear from behind her. Spinning around she saw the blue-eyed vampire from the night before.

"Sorry, Barbie," the vampire said, arms and ankles crossed as he leaned lazily against the trunk of a tree. "I really didn't want it to have to come to this, but seeing as my Bride is hiding behind a shield of sisters, I had to figure out a way to lure her out." Too white teeth shown in the light as he pulled away from the tree.

Taking a step back, Caroline asked slowly, "How did you lead the Valkyrie away?"

He shrugged, following her. "A Mimic owed me a favor; it started shrieking and all the Valkyrie followed. Unfortunately, that worked against me because they brought Elena with them."

For a moment, she could see a softening in his eyes at the mention of her friend and for that time, she wondered why Elena wouldn't want to be the Bride of a devoted male. To have someone care about you more than they cared about themselves, to want nothing more than your happiness…so many people searched centuries for that kind of love but not Elena.

Was that why Caroline wasn't one of the Big Deals? Was the fact that she wanted to love and be loved in return why she would never be High Profile?

Not for the first time, she asked herself if she would always have to be second fiddle to Elena.

Lost in her thoughts, Caroline missed the male moving, was quickly caught by what felt like a shackle around her wrist. She looked up at the vampire, feeling her vampire traits coming to her face. "So, you're going to ask Elena to come to you in exchange for me? Isn't that just so typical of immortal men? No wonder she wants nothing to do with you."

Okay, his vampire face was a bit more daunting than hers. "I'll do whatever I have to, Blondie, to get my Bride. Do you know how long I've been chasing her, what it feels like to have your body totally shut down?" He yanked her closer, baring his fangs right in her face. "I'm Turned; I'm sure you know that. I felt myself die then woke up without my heart beating, without having to breathe. For over a hundred and twenty years, I've looked all over for her. I've paid my dues and now I get my reward."

"You do realize I won't go without a fight, right?" she asked, faking a yawn. "Besides, if anything happens to me, Elena will _never _accept you." In a flash, she had one of her blades pressed to his throat even though his grip threatened to crush her other wrist. _Don't get abducted for one week, that was the deal_, she berated herself. _You had one job and you already screwed it up._ "So I think you're the one with more to lose, don't you?"

Keeping the blade against his throat meant that when he leaned forward, she had to lean back, giving her unsteady footing. Not exactly advantageous, but nothing she couldn't handle. She still had Elena to hold over him, of course.

"Then maybe I rip your head off here and leave you for the animals to eat." His smile turned sinister. "No one will ever know what happened to you." Without so much as blinking, he ripped the stiletto out of her hand and tossed it away, completely decimating the bones in her wrist. As she cried out in pain and tried to yank herself away, he flipped her to her back on the ground, his hand around her throat. Crouching over her, she saw he wasn't even the slightest bit breathless. "If you swear to do what I say, though, I don't have to kill you. But if you don't…they won't know what happened to you."

Blinking back the pain in her arm, she wanting to give some snappy comeback, to put on some bravado. Unfortunately, she didn't have much experience with anything other than friendly sparring so she…was…terrified.

Tears came to her eyes at being helpless, once again being collateral damage in someone else's story. "I'll go with you just please…don't kill me."


End file.
